


take heart, dear one

by gi09



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Nearly Human Castiel (Supernatural), Pining Dean Winchester, Team Free Will (Supernatural), unspecified season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:42:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22150498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gi09/pseuds/gi09
Summary: The journey was long, music filled and a little snore filled and it involved a lot of gas stations and sketchy diners and a stop to buy three pairs of ridiculous rubber flip flops but at the end the bungalow turned out to actually be on a beach, so at least the booking site hadn’t lied about that.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 57
Collections: The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	take heart, dear one

“Maybe we should just take off for a while” started Sam as soon as Dean entered the kitchen.

Dean snorted: “Yeah, you’re right.”

He went towards the fridge to grab two beers.

“I’m serious, Dean. Nothing stops us from going on vacation for a couple of days. We’ll bring our emergency phones and that’s it.”

“That’s it? No researches, no checking the news, no nothing?”

“Yeah,” it was the immediate reply. Then after a beat, “I mean, why not?”

“It just doesn’t sound like us.”

“But it could,” insisted Sam taking the bottle offered and taking a sip. “There’s no harm in looking anyway.”

Dean said _yeah sure_ , left the room, fantasized about it for a while that night, and then didn’t think about it anymore, because there was a case and then another case.

Then one night Sam called him into the war room to show him a booking website and way too good to be true photos of bungalows on a beach.

“What am I looking at?”

“What do you think? For next week.”

He asked what for and that had exasperated Sam.

“For us. It’s got a double bedroom and a pull out sofa in the living room. I thought, you know, for… Cas.”

Dean didn’t know why Sam had hesitated before saying it. If it was because he didn’t think Dean would want to invite him or if he thought mentioning the fact that Cas was now so low on his mojo that the littlest effort could make him sleep would hurt him.

Either way it bugged him. He didn’t say anything.

“The town seems nice. The reviews are good. So?”

“So?”

Sam clenched and unclenched his jaw before saying: “Are you free next week?”

“Why, do you think I got plans you don’t know about?”

“Good! I’ll book it then,” he said throwing his hands in the air.

Dean sighed heavily. He wanted to go. He just… didn’t want to make that kind of decision. To just plan something relaxing? With all the work they had to do? He knew that he could do that, he had the right to do that, he didn’t have any boss that would forbid it, but he… couldn’t just leave and do what he wanted.

Sam shouted to his retreating back that he’d better have his bags ready to leave on Thursday.

Then Cas came around that evening while they were having dinner. They heard his heavy footsteps before he entered the kitchen. His hair was a little messy and his skin looked pale and worn out. He always seemed exhausted these days. Dean had stolen a glance and thought that a little break could be good for him, but that Cas would have thought that they were out of their mind for planning a vacation. It dawned on him that he was probably going to say no and that that would hurt him a little to hear. He wanted Cas to want to go with them.

Sam informed him of the plan, but judging by his squinty eyes and foggy expression he was having trouble following him.

Then something seemed to click. “You want me to go with you?”

Sam stopped his blabbering and looked at Dean like he was the one to blame if Cas thought they did not include him in things.

Dean didn’t look up and kept eating his fries, so Sam turned around again, “Of course, Cas.”

“I don’t own a swim suit,” said Cas after a beat.

“Dean and I can lend it to you.”

“Oh. Thank you. Alright then,” he said.

Dean looked at him frowning – had it been that easy? – but Cas gave him a hint of a smile and his frown melted away. It had been. “You coming with us or zapping away?”

Cas hesitated, “I better tag along if that’s alright with you. I’m trying to cut back from using my powers if it’s not necessary.”

Sam looked at him pointedly again, like, again, this was something Dean could or could not do something about.

Packing was never a problem for Dean, even when it was him and Sam and just one duffle bag. They didn’t need much. But with Cas, they couldn’t just share everything. Like, he had to have his own beach towel, Dean had thought, staring at those that were available at the bunker. He didn’t really see Cas showing up on Thursday with a trolley on tow. So he'd asked Sam and Sam had suggested they fixed him a bag and gave Dean one of his old backpacks. Dean had put in a red beach towel, and later Sam had dropped by with a couple of short sleeves shirts that he’d found in some old closet. Dean had contributed with the spare toothbrush he always carried in his own duffle bag, and a couple of t-shirts and sweatpants to use as pyjamas.

Like predicted, Cas had showed up on Thursday empty handed.

“Where is your bag?” Dean had teased, practically hearing Sam rolling his eyes behind his back.

Cas had opened his mouth but nothing had come out, so Dean had laughed and slapped his back. “Just kidding. We got you, buddy.”

The journey was long, music filled, and a little snore filled and it involved a lot of gas stations and sketchy diners and a stop to buy three pairs of ridiculous rubber flip flops, but at the end the bungalow turned out to actually be on a beach, so at least the booking site hadn’t lied about that. It was hot even in that time of the year. It was late afternoon and everything was quiet, only the sound of the waves in the distance. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he'd listen to something so peaceful.

Sam had insisted on going on a grocery run, but Dean had driven the last leg of the journey and had been too eager to take off his heavy, warm, smelly clothes and put his feet up, so he was sitting in a battered rattan chair on their wooden porch. Cas finished his inspection of the bungalow and appeared on the threshold behind him, still wearing his trenchcoat and suit and looking incredibly out of place.

“Dude, lose the outfit.” said Dean.

Cas looked down at himself, said “Right” and closed the door behind him. There was a little bit of shuffling coming from the inside and some thumps, but Dean resisted the urge to go check on him or peek at him from the windows that gave on the porch.

When the door opened again, Cas was wearing the light green swim suit that had belonged to Sam and one of the weird old shirt he'd dug up from the bunker, this one light blue with white flower-like shapes that formed a pattern. Cas had kept it open like some mobster from a movie.

Dean fought the urge to laugh together with other urges.

Cas looked at him and did that thing with his arms, widening them as if to say, “Look”.

Dean was looking.

“Yeah. Better.” He said and Cas smiled.

It was weird to see his calves. It was weird to realize that they were always there, hidden underneath the fabric of his pants. Like his nipples and his tummy, like his elbows and his heels. It was not the first time he was seeing them, but it was always weird.

Cas walked the length of the porch looking around, then went back to where Dean still stayed seated.

“Would you like to go for a walk?”

Dean looked at the orange brown sand and the nice friendly waves, the light that was dimming and said: “Alright.”

They reached the shore and then chose to go to the right for no reason. Dean wasn’t sure if he had ever done this before. Let alone with another person. He didn’t know if it meant something, if he knew how to do it, even. Do you look at your feet, straight ahead? At the sea?

“A long, nice walk on the beach” mocked Dean. “Should I hold your hand next?”

“Is it something you ask?” Cas said, honest confusion in his tone. “Isn’t it something that should be spontaneous?”

Dean sighed, slightly flustered: “Man, don’t ask me these questions, I don't know. I wasn't being serious, just talking about doing the cliché things, carrying your flip flops and chasing each other on the sand.”

Cas made a noncommittal sound, then added: “There are things that I still don’t quite get, even after all this time.”

“Me and you, buddy.”

Cas looked out to the sea and Dean was taken hostage by those questions that he wanted to ask, wanted to ask so bad but that always seemed to get stuck in his throat.

He gulped and licked his lips and took advantage of the fact that Cas was not looking at him.

“How are you doing anyway? With the human stuff.”

“Oh. I need to sleep almost every day now. Sometimes I need to eat. I don’t know how long it will last. I don’t know if one day it’ll just stop or if it’ll become my new normal.” Cas looked at him and pressed his lips together. His eyes were not sad, but close. Dean had to look away and clear his throat.

“What about… feelings? Like, are those from time to time too? I never got that.”

“No. I always have those. Angels develop them the more they're in contact with humans. That is why Heaven was… troubled by my stay on Earth, that is why Gabriel lived how he lived and not Raphael or Uriel.”

“Yeah I don’t miss those douchebags.” Dean frowned and added: “So… the more time you’d spend away from Earth the more you would, like, forget how to feel?”

“Precisely. That is what makes us able to go on for centuries. Sorrow, loneliness, regret, you cannot carry those with you for eternity.”

Dean bit back a “Must be nice”, he bit back a “How can you choose to be here instead?”, “How can you think staying here is worth all that?”.

He couldn’t ask that. He couldn’t risk hearing something that would keep him awake at night and make him grind his teeth in his sleep. He didn’t say anything and they kept going for a while. Cas pointed out to every bird he saw gliding in the distance, but they stayed quiet until Cas said: “I don’t regret it.”

He held his head high and repeated: “I don’t,” quiet, like a secret.

Dean’s thoughts were so loud at that point that he wanted to ask “What?” to make sure he hadn’t misheard him, but the moment was gone, it was too late already.

“Shall we go back? It’s getting dark and I think Sam has returned.”

“Yeah. I’m hungry.”

Then a wave covered their feet and one of Cas’ flip flops remained stuck on the wet sand, so he stumbled, lost his balance and let out a hand that Dean promptly took, and held, while he regained his ground.

Dean thought: _spontaneous_ ; then thought: _not really holding hands_. Then it was over.

Sam watched them coming from the porch. They could see his silhouette darkening the mosquito net before the glass door. It was almost dark. He welcomed them with an infectious smile on his face. There was also a nice smell coming from the inside. Dean jumped the last step.

Sam made him and Cas clean their feet and calves from the sand before going in. He had set the table properly and even washed the pots already. It made Dean wonder how long they were gone.

Dean had just gotten to his last mouthful when Cas pushed his half-finished plate towards him. He did not complain and dove right in again.

They pulled out the sofa bed for Cas. Sam said he had a book to finish so Dean washed the last of the dishes while Cas was in the bathroom, then went and changed into his pyjamas.

“Come watch some tv,” said Cas from his bed and Dean joined him because it was just Cas and it was alright. Cas handed him the remote and he chose an old western that knocked them both in less than an hour. Sam found them asleep while passing by to go to the bathroom, turned off the device and went back to bed.

Dean woke up a few hours later wondering where he was. Then he registered Cas turned on his side, sleeping next to him, registered the tv off, the night outside the windows, the dim light from the fridge. He got up and went to his own bed.

The morning saluted them bright and warm.

They laid their towels on the sand and went for a swim. Sam started bitching about how cold the water was so Dean splashed him to shut him up. It worked.

The brothers never had many chances to swim so they just stayed near the shore, enjoying the cool of the water and the sensation of their bodies floating, while Cas seem to be taking the sea as his personal Olympic pool. Dean watched him getting further and further away and only really relaxed when he saw him turning around. When he made his way back to them he had short breath. Dean surveyed his sea drops covered face and found him well enough.

“I didn’t know you could swim like that” said Sam. “Can you teach me?”

Dean scoffed and turned away. Typical Sam.

He floated around on his back, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face, then went back to the beach to lay on his towel and to watch his two dorks waving about their arms and legs.

By the time the sun got too warm Sam and Cas had gotten out of the water too and Dean was starting to see the freckles appearing on his body. They decided to go back inside to cool off and have something to eat, but then Cas fell asleep on the couch watching tv before the meal was even ready, and after lunch Sam said he was going to read out on the porch for a while, so Dean was the only one who went back into the water.

There were even less people around at that time and Dean had never thought that being surrounded by gallons and gallons of sparkling water that stretched as far as his eyes could see could feel so intimate. He closed his eyes and imagined letting all his thoughts and anxieties and worries out of his head, letting all the fears and the guilt and the sense of duty out of his body and being one with the water instead, breathing the moment in and feeling it on his skin.

When he got back to the bungalow Cas and Sam were sitting at the table playing cards.

“… like deep sea creatures.” Cas was saying when he entered. “Dean. Do you want to join us?”

Dean passed in favour of hitting the shower and getting rid of the salt on his skin.

It was still early but he felt tired already. Maybe he should have taken that nap like Cas.

Cas had won two times in a row by the time he sat with them.

“I still don’t understand the rules” he confessed to Dean while Sam was getting up, visibly frustrated. He announced that was going for a swim and that they were almost out of groceries.

Cas said “I’ll go with Dean.”

He didn’t even change and tagged along still wearing his swimsuit and another one of his old shirts, a lime green one, buttoned up this time at least. The weather had turned a little humid. The short path to the little town had no shadow anywhere.

“What’s your favourite song?” asked Cas out of nowhere, passing in front of empty summer house after empty summer house.

“Uh, Ramble on, I guess.”

“Why?”

Dean shrugged: “Just is.”

“How can one tell?”

“You feel something inside when you listen to it. Or you never get tired of listening to it. Or it seems like it tells your story or something.”

Cas seemed to think about it.

“I like music but I don’t really get the attachment to it.”

Dean shook his head. “You just gotta find something that works for you, trust me. It’s not the same for everybody.”

“I think I prefer nature. Animals and leaves and thunders. Those give me all the things you said.”

“I figured you’d say that.”

Cas smiled at him. “If I had all my powers I would show you what I mean. We would go in the deep of the jungle or on a mountain at dawn. I’m sorry the circumstances never allowed us to do things like that when I could.”

Dean felt a pang in his side.

“Always too busy saving the world,” he laughed trying to ease up the tension. “Besides, I never liked you zapping me around.”

Cas remained silent so Dean added. “And we could still do that. It’ll take us more time but we could still do that, we got cars, don’t we? Trains, planes, we can go wherever you like.”

Cas finally returned the smile. “You are right. We could do that.”

Dean blessed the a/c in the supermarket out loud. As soon as she saw them the lady at the register warned them that the place was about to close. Cas held their basket while they quickly made their way through the aisles. They picked up a six packs and a frozen pizza and something for their breakfast. They were out in a matter of minutes.

Dean said they should have expected the shops to close early in a sea town like this during the spring. The supermarket was in a side street that gave into a little square that was basically the centre of the town. They poked their heads in just to see a couple of pubs and little tourists’ shops. Cas wandered closer attracted by all sorts of knickknacks they sold. He dallied until Dean urged him because their pizza was melting on them. He bought a little wind catcher made of seashells.

Sam was already in his pyjamas by the time they got back, so Cas went and changed too.

Then they lighted the lamp on the porch and ate their microwaved pizza on their rattan chairs, watching the sun setting. Cas told them a story about a king that was thousands of years ago thousands of miles away and the stars took over while they drank their beers and listened to his voice.

Sam shook Dean awake before he could doze off completely. He rubbed his eyes and looked around and found them watching him with fond and amused expressions.

He covered his face.

“He’s getting old” Sam half whispered to Cas.

Dean really didn’t have the energy to fire anything back, he just said that he was going to bed and as soon as he laid down, he fell asleep.

During the night it started raining.

Dean left an unbothered Sam snoring away and went stumbling into the dimly lit kitchen to close the windows. He turned and saw the bundle of sheets that moved rhythmically with Cas’ breath. He stood there for a few minutes before shaking himself and going back to bed.

A few hours later the sounds of Cas and Sam in the other room woke him up again. It was still raining.

Cas had already put the coffee on by the time he left the bedroom.

“How did this happen?” grumbled Sam, sipping from his cup looking out of the glass door like a puppy that wanted to be let out. The rain was so violent and the wind so strong that Dean felt uneasy watching him standing there with only a door to separate him from that.

Fortunately, Cas suggested they played cards so Sam stepped back. It was no fun really, playing with them. Sam took things way too seriously and it took Cas a billion of centuries when his turn came. Dean distracted himself watching tv and tuned out all the conversations about game rules. Yes, there was more than one.

Then the clouds broke and Sam and Cas wanted to go for a swim. The waves did not seem dangerous but the wind still swept the sand away and the sun was cold and surrounded by grey. It didn’t seem like the break would last and Dean didn’t care for being wet and chilly. He didn’t mind sitting outside with his second coffee.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Cas asked draping his towel on the railing of the porch next to Sam’s.

“Nah, you go and catch a lightning if you want.”

Cas smiled a little smile, said “Later then” and went after Sam. Dean watched them dive into the water, point at the clouds and splash about for a while. Sam had tied his hair in a loser ass man bun but it was all wet already. He laughed at something Cas said and fell back into the water.

Dean sat on the porch with his coffee and watched them, fighting the urge to yell at them not to go too far from the shore like a mother hen. The wind picked up after a while and it started raining again so the two made their way back to the shore and then broke into a short run raising their arms to try and cover their faces, their swim suits wrinkly and clinging to their tights, the sand sticking to their feet and calves. They arrived half laughing and towelled off but Sam’s teeth were clattering so Cas told him to get into the shower first.

“Watch the sand” warned off Dean. His brother rolled his eyes at him but rid himself of it as much as he could, before going through the doorway. Cas stood by Dean’s side, with his red towel on his shoulder that the wind made fly about like a cape. Dean watched him with the corner of his eye, his silent, unmoving figure, with his eyes on the sea and the goose skin on his arms. Cas let out a content sigh.

“I feel so much right now.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Is that a good thing?”

“Yes” smiled Cas.

Dean didn’t really understand, but neither did he have enough courage to ask how and what and why, so he let the wind fill the silence while he finished his coffee.

Later that night one of their emergency phones rang.

They were stuck inside because it was raining again. It turned out to be another hunter, wondering if they were anywhere near Minneapolis because there was a vampire nest he wanted to take out that night.

Sam said they couldn’t make it, but ended the call promising they would pass word. So they spent the following hours trying to get in contact with other hunters that could possibly be in the area.

“Why nobody ever put up a hotline or something?” said Dean frustrated, after the tenth phone call went to waste.

“That’s actually a great idea” said Sam, rubbing his eyes. He hit send on yet another text and pushed his phone away on the table. “I’m starving. I can’t believe you guys only got a pizza yesterday.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “It was late. And now it’s gonna be closed already.”

“Great.”

“I could go back to the bunker and grab something from the kitchen.” said Cas from the couch.

They blinked at him.

“No,” said Dean, “we don’t want you to use your energies like that.”

“I am feeling well. I can do it.”

Sam added a whole new series of worst case scenarios to Dean’s list. “But what if you get stuck there? How you are going to come back? Doesn’t seem worth it.”

“I won’t get stuck and it’ll only take half a minute.”

Dean opened his mouth to say something else but he was already gone. He groaned. “I hate when he does that.”

After thirty excruciating seconds Cas reappeared in the middle of the room. His right leg gave out and he lost his balance for a second but then he stood upright. He smiled at them, as if to say “Told you” but remained mostly silent for the rest of the night and had a second helping of pre-cooked mashed potatoes.

It was three in the morning when they finally had the call that the nest had been wiped out and everyone had made it out alive. Dean had guilt gnawing at his brain and doubts tearing up his intestines. They had been waiting for the news watching reruns of a comedy show that he didn’t find funny at all, Sam was too anxious to concentrate on and Cas seemed completely disinterested in.

Sam closed the call and sighed heavily. “This was stressful.”

“Yeah.”

Sam heard something in his voice and stopped in his track towards the bedroom “Dean. We couldn’t have reached them in time even if we were in Kansas.”

Dean shrugged and averted his eyes: “Right.”

Sam exchanged a look with Cas, then sighed again and walked away.

Dean helped Cas pull out his bed and watched him climb under the sheets.

“Lights off?” he said, his fingers already on the switcher.

“Yes, thank you.” The lights went off but Cas called “Dean?” and he had to go back a few steps to look at him in the semi dark, half sitting on the mattress.

“Sam is right, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“You know it's not your job to carry the whole world on your shoulders.”

Dean snorted and smiled bitterly even if Cas couldn’t see him: “Not today is not.”

Cas sighed. “It has always been asked a lot to you and your brother. But you don’t have to feel guilty for having something for yourself when you can.”

Dean really didn’t want to have that conversation at three in the morning. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and tried to keep his voice under control.

“I know.” he said. He wanted to add "But it's good to hear, I needed that" and he wanted to add "It's just difficult sometimes to unlearn what you thought was right". He didn't say it.

“Are you sure you know?”

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean rolled his eyes. “Go to sleep.”

On their last day, the wind didn’t relent but the white clouds running in the sky were a nice sight and at least the sun was warm.

Dean was feeling awesome, lying on his towel and enjoying all the sensations and the smells of that day, knowing that again soon it would only be sulphur and old books and death. Sam was a few feet away wearing a long sleeved henley that Dean had no idea why he'd brought in the first place (“I thought I’d get cold in the mornings.”) and going around snapping pictures of the horizon and Dean had no idea how could he even see what he was taking pictures of with his hair covering his face the whole time.

Dean was about to ask him what exactly did he plan to do with those, if stick them in a family album and also do some bricolage while he was at it when Cas with his red towel on his shoulders sat next to his knee, splashing his legs once again with the cold water of the sea.

“Cas! You got your own towel.”

“I’m cold” he said with no hint of apology in his tone.

Dean blinked at him unimpressed but moved his legs to give him more room that he promptly took possession of scooting back on his ass. Cas went back to watching the water and Dean was almost dozing off with the sun on his skin, his hands in the warm sand and Cas’ light weight on his knee.

A feeling of contentment took over and smoothed the lines on his forehead. Something inside him broke free, sprinted forward. It was okay. Sam was fine. Cas was there. Cas. He could feel all of their points of contact and he was afraid of them and he wanted more of them. He laid there and allowed himself to think about wrapping his arms around him and his stupid red towel until Sam came back and he was forced to sit up because Sam trying to fit next to his other knee was like a baby giraffe trying to squeeze himself into a birds’ nest.

He showed Cas the pictures he had taken and then he told a story of the last time they had spent time on a beach. Neither of them remembered where they were and why they were so near the coast but John had left them at the motel for the afternoon and they had sneaked out to see the sea up close. It was too cold to go into the water so they had stayed on the sand even if it was almost freezing and Dean had built for Sam a giant sand castle.

Dean doubted his child self could be capable of the piece of art Sam was describing, but it felt nice to know that that’s how his brother remembered it.

Cas yawned his way through lunch and Sam insisted for him to take one of the beds in the bedroom while he sorted out their bags for the journey. Cas tried to put up a fight like a child that while rubbing his eyes said that he wanted to keep watching tv but it didn’t last long. Dean on the other hand had no intention of helping, he sat on the porch while his brother busied himself around.

“You could help, you know. It’s your stuff too.”

“I’m busy.” was Dean’s reply when Sam popped his head out. He rolled his eyes and went back inside. After a few minutes he came back holding the little brown bag that contained the seashell wind catcher. Dean had forgotten about that. “What’s this?”

“It’s Cas’.”

Sam gave him a funny look. “Is he moving in?”

“What? He said he likes the sounds of nature or something,” said Dean uselessly, and sounding way too defensive for someone who up until that point hadn’t really thought about where Cas was planning on hanging it. He quickly averted his eyes. He felt Sam’s stare on him for a few seconds more, then he seemed to give up on what he was going to add and went back inside.

Sure, ever since Cas needed a place to rest, he’d show up to the bunker more often. Sometimes they would walk into a room and find him asleep on a couch. But most of the times, if it wasn’t for a case, they didn’t see him. They would text, but Dean never asked where he was. Talks of actually moving in, getting his own room? That was just a wild fantasy.  
  
And anyway, with him everything always seemed to be temporary. Dean knew that he was going to get his juice back and everything was going to go back to how it was.

When Sam was finally done he joined him with a few beers, puffing like he had just dug a hole in the ground. He took in the view that surrounded them and the light that was starting to turn orange.

“It’s been nice, right?”

“Yeah,” conceded Dean “Very nice.”

“Do you think the world ended while we were away?”

“We are still away, anything could happen in forty-eight hours.”

Sam snorted. “Okay, since the answer is no, where’re we going next time?”

Dean scoffed. “You choose.”

Sam almost jumped out of his chair. “Did I just? Did I just hear that? Did you just say that?” he laughed.

“Calm down, I was obviously kidding. You got no recording or witnesses” Dean raised his eyebrows at him. He took a sip, then added: “Cas wants to go to the jungle.”

Sam laughed again and shook his head. “Yeah, we are not going to the jungle.”

“How about a mountain?”

“That’s better. We could go hiking.”

“What? No way I’m going hiking. I’m not gonna exhaust myself on what’s supposed to be a vacation.”

“But I guess the reward is the feeling you get when you reach the top or something.”

“Yeah, I’m rewarded enough on the ground where I am, thank you.”

Sam smiled and took a deep breath. “Yeah.”

They had had many moments like this, on the roof of the Impala, in motel rooms, after a hunt, while on the move, during some difficult nights when sleeping didn’t come easy. They didn’t need to talk. They felt so familiar and perfect and most of the time they reminded Dean what was he doing it all for. This one was no exception and when Cas silently joined them, leaning on the railing, Dean wished he had some way to bottle up the moment and keep it in his pocket forever.

They stayed like that, looking at the sun painting the sky with all the colours it had.

"I’m gonna go get us something to eat," announced Dean in the end.

Cas offered to go back to the bunker, but Dean really didn’t mind taking a walk and didn’t want for him to waste all the mojo he had left for their lazy asses.

By the time he got back with dinner Sam and Cas were sprawled on the sofa. The tv was on.

"Sam is teaching me to lounge" replied Cas to his confused look. Sam looked amused.

"I can see that... something weird is going on." It made him smile. "Well now get your asses up cause I got burgers here" he said, going for the kitchen table.

"Back to the Future is on. Bring the plates" said Sam.

So Dean passed out three plates and took the beers and the bag with the food. He made sure they both carved out a space for him on the couch to let him sit in the middle.

He had missed half of the movie already and the burgers were lukewarm but it wasn’t bad. Cas laughed a few times and Sam dozed off leaning in on him like he did when he was a kid. It wasn’t bad at all.

Sam came back to consciousness when the lightening stroke the clock tower and dragged himself into the bedroom after a grumbled goodnight. The movie ended and Dean and Cas put away their trash and plates.

Dean was drying the last glass when his eyes fell on the brown paper bag that was still on the kitchen counter where Sam had left it. “Have you thought about where are you gonna hang that?” he asked, going for casual, nodding at the bag and hoping that Cas remembered and he wouldn’t have to further explain the question.

Cas stopped with the trash bag dangling from his fingers and looked at him, suddenly unsure. “I assumed it would be fine for me to leave it with you and Sam.”

Dean was disappointed and it showed: “Uh. Sure, you can give it to us. I mean, if that’s what you want.”

Cas frowned. He seemed to find difficult letting the words out. He cast down his eyes and Dean didn’t like at all where the conversation was heading. “I want to keep it. But I don’t have anywhere that’s mine. Of course, if my situation doesn’t change I will soon need to find a place for myself and I will take it back.”

Dean felt panic mounting inside him, he wasn’t ready for any part of that conversation but he had to say something. “Are you…? You don’t need to…” he sighed “… look for another place. It goes without saying, Cas. You can stay at the bunker.”

Cas pressed his lips together but finally looked up at him.

“Well, that would make me very happy.”

Dean’s brain shut down completely. He tried clearing his throat, looking away, rocking on his feet. He thought about anything else he could say and said: “Want me to help you pull out the bed?”

“No, thank you. I'll do it later.”

“Oh, okay. Well… I need my couple of hours. Are you going to be alright here?”

He said yes, that he was going to watch some more tv, read Sam’s book and wait for him to wake up.

Dean said goodnight.

Only Dean couldn’t sleep. He could not stop hearing the television in the other room and the wind against their window and he couldn’t stop being bothered by the blinking light of Sam’s phone and the moon shining on the ceiling.

He got up when he had enough of tossing and turning. He found Cas on the pull out bed sitting with his back to the cushions and his legs stretched in front of him, watching tv.

“Did I wake you?” he asked as soon as he saw him stumbling in the dark.

Dean shook his head and mumbled a reply. He laid down on the side with his arm bent under his head.

The tv was playing another 80s movie that was halfway through but Cas passed him the remote anyway without thinking twice. He seemed happy to have company.

“You should sleep, we have a long journey tomorrow” Cas spoke again and Dean closed his eyes fighting the desire of curling up in his voice and in the warmth of his body. He wanted to lay his head on his tight and feel his hand in his hair. He grumbled. “I can’t.”

Cas turned back to the movie and Dean spent the following few minutes staring at Cas’ hand on the mattress without really thinking anything. He was feeling a weird sense of premature nostalgia for that very moment. Then, even if it looked like Cas hadn’t moved an inch, Dean blinked once and when he looked again his hand had the palm facing upward.

Dean’s heart started thumping loud in his chest and he thought that maybe he had done something wrong and he had to take it back before he could hurt Cas. But his body wouldn’t move and his heart knew that it was too late to take anything back.

He dared looking up at what he could see of his face but Cas was staring ahead, partially lightened by the crappy tv. Dean closed his eyes, then he reached out and laid his left hand on his, palm against palm.

Then it was done. Then there was this huge thing that they had just done and none of them was acknowledging it and Cas was still watching the movie and Dean was still too busy feeling everything at once to process and do anything.

His grip was probably a little too strong. Dean didn’t know why he seemed unable to release it even a little. Cas didn’t seem to mind anyway.

He closed his eyes and held tighter and tighter.

Sam dragged himself in the kitchen to get a glass of water a couple of hours later and found Cas trying to turn the pages of his book with one hand while the other was tight in Dean’s grip, curled on the bed heavily asleep.

Cas looked up and gave him an easy and tired smile.

Sam felt his heart expanding. He smiled back and went back to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve got a list of apologies ready for you:
> 
> I have no idea where they are geographically and I’m pretty sure that there are regulations that do not allow these kinds of buildings right on the beach. Same goes for the angels’ discourse about feelings. Totally made up, don’t really remember if they ever talked about something like that on the show.
> 
> Other than that, I do hope you enjoyed it. I hadn’t written anything in a very long time and this is the first time I publish something in English. I didn’t want anything major to happen, I just wanted a domestic fest and them being okay and safe and relaxed for a while acting like a soft and smiling family.
> 
> 31.12: minor editing (spelling and vocabulary)


End file.
